


Difficult Decisions:

by LibertyKingdom



Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertyKingdom/pseuds/LibertyKingdom
Summary: Based on this ask from Garthe Knight Anon“You don’t get a choice”
Relationships: Bonnie Barstow/Michael Knight
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Difficult Decisions:

Of all the nerve!!! Garthe Knight had gall forged out of graphene or steel. If he thought he could force her hand to do anything she was not inclined to do already, he had another thing coming! He might be playing a heavy, high hand now, but she was determined to try and turn the tide in the Foundation’s favor. 

The grasp she held on the mechanical device becomes crushing, tightened by force of sheer will. Were she to hold it any tighter, the plastic covering would have splintered and cracked in a nice series of even fault-lines. Eyes of turquoise burn blisteringly hot like the center of a flame beneath fans of dark lashes as her gaze levels firmly upon Garthe. Her jaw clamps down fiercely. So hard, it feels like she might grit her teeth into fragments the size of sand molecules. She is fully prepared to resist, words of carefully crafted protest weigh like buoys upon her tongue. Swallowing down any terror igniting in her twisting stomach, she presses, “what makes you so confident that I’ll assist you?” 

The hated man shifts, drawing close enough to inflict harm, were that his actual intention. His lips carve out an unnerving, jagged jackal-like grin. He is well assured that he is in full possession of all the aces. Better still, he held one particular ace that will render her compliant enough to achieve his end game. 

Bonnie feels herself tense. Her muscles going as rigid as stone as Garthe looms over the edge of her right shoulder. A breath snags, catching somewhere in the back of her throat when he reaches downwards to retrieve something. Eager eyes begrudgingly follow his motions with fearful apprehension that he might strike out at her, the way he had before. To her great astonishment, no bruising belting comes. Instead, she is presented with something that sends a fierce series of horrifying waves bristling through her veins. 

To most, it would seem to be a strange black plastic wrist-watch of no consequence but to the cybernetic technician, it meant the world. It’s expertly fitted plastic band looked severed, forcefully broken till it detached from the arm of it’s owner. 

Bonnie is intimately entangled with the owner. If Garthe got hands on the specialized com-link, something was seriously wrong with Michael! Vehement, the flames in her turquoise eyes grow dark and arctic, turning discomforting and frigid shades of indigo and ash. Upon further inspection, the brunette realizes that the radio transmitter is completely crushed. It was as if, someone had sliced it off Michael’s arm and then proceeded to run it over with a series of tanks. A sense of fearful urgency floods through her and swallowing sharply, she strives to find her voice. “What have you done with him?” She demands, the chord wavering uneasily between octaves. “If you’ve killed him ... I’ll ...” She leaves the threat unfinished, hinging in the static air surrounding the both of them. 

Garthe’s grin grows sinister with just the right note of menacing. “Relax,” the word enters the air with a slithering, snakeish, quality. He quite enjoyed the news he was about to bestow upon Dr. Barstow. 

How could Bonnie ever be at ease when Michael might be in grave peril?!!! Skittering against her rib-cage, Bonnie feels her heart give off a horrible series of pangs. 

A ringed hand curves over her shoulder, enclosing painfully tight. Garthe leans inwards, his cruel lips finding the shell of Bonnie’s ear. “He’s alive ...” a pause is inserted for dramatic effect ... “for now.” His fingers push punishingly deeper into the soft flesh at the edge of her collarbone. 

The heat of Garthe’s breath against her ear causes the brunette to shiver. Her skin crawls with his proximity. She can feel the flesh beneath his agonizing grip bruising, causing a wince to ghost across her countenance. Anger, stormy but true, clouds her vision. Vaguest hints of light could practically be misconstrued as lightning as they strike across the ever-deepening pools of her eyes. Especially, when they screw upwards to lock on him. 

Bonnie externally wills Garthe to divulge more information than he had already. Swallowing down the unexpected rise of grief, she quietly presses, “how? How do I know that you’re telling the truth?” Her hands lower the mechanical device she had intended to destroy back to the safety of the desk. The tendons in her hands ache from how fiercely the mechanism had been clutched. 

“Trust me.” His words have a razor-edge to them. 

But just how far could she instill faith in his words when his own father didn’t trust him? Still, she can not tolerate the thought of gambling with Michael Knight’s life. With a spark of desperation, Bonnie entreats, “take me to him and I’ll do whatever you ask. Just prove to me that he’s not dead.” The thought of having to gaze upon Michael’s lifeless form makes her blood run cold and all she could do was pray that this time, and this time alone, Garthe was not feeding her a line just to gain her cooperation.


End file.
